


Smile, the worst is yet to come

by mistletoe_girl



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Issues, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, StanTeens, Stangst, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, WARNING for swears, adopt young Stanley Pines 2k16, and an ooc butts in, and then even more, emotionaly damaged kids, warning for anxeity and depression, what else can you get after being thrown out of home at age of 17
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistletoe_girl/pseuds/mistletoe_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>After teenage Stanley Pines is thrown out of his home, there's one person in Glass Shard Beach who cares enough to offer help. A young woman finds him a place in a house she lives in, the one local kids call the Freak House. It's not the best part of town, there's a lot of different people living under the same roof, but Stanley's in no position to choose. Forced to grow up too fast, soon on he will learn that family isn't always blood and that humans are amazing creatures that can withstand more than they think.</em>
  <br/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Who says that GF fandom is dead is extra-wrong, 'cause even a prehistoric creature like me had gotten out of its cave to post a fic.  
>   
> Blame it all on a Mikky Ekko song 'Smile'

  
_What can fall apart, will_  
— Magnificent Ruin  


If you’d ever asked her for some life advice, she’d say – never touch slightly familiar symbols on the wall in a godforsaken cave. But even if you do, and even if you end up in a time that’s nearly five decades prior to the one you’ve been living in – you’ll survive it. You’ll survive being hungry and homeless on the streets of an unknown city in a foreign country. She won't tell you how, though (she doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to remember, but it’s always there, on the back of her mind).  


And she survives. Thanks to a lucky chance and-not-so-bad people, she even gets a place to live in and a possibility to start her small bakery in a nice and friendly part of a town. She thinks it turns out okay in the end. It’s just that she doesn’t know it’s not quite the end yet – but just the beginning.

She’s living in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey for nearly a year. Today a new sign is being installed on top of her bakery. ‘Annie’s’ – it says in red glossy letters. Annie smiles proudly and is just about to go inside when a voice draws her attention.  


\- Ew, Stan, that’s gross! – shrieks a teenage boy in yellow shirt and starts to laugh.  


The other boy, in a white t-shirt and tight jeans laughs along and throws an arm around the first teen’s shoulders.  


\- Nagh, Sixer, I know you liked it! AAAAnd, here goes another joke!  


\- Nooo, - the other boy cries out, pretending -and failing- to look horrified.  


Hand on the doorknob, Annie stops dead in her tracks.  


She tries to check his fingers for an extra.  


She tries to check her forehead for high temperature.  


She tries closing her eyes for a few seconds as a last resort.  


The boys are still there when she opens her eyes. They’re further from her now - they didn’t stop going wherever they were heading to, but the world stops for her.  


And it all clicks together.  


Glass Shard Beach, the 70s, the strange symbol in a cave Annie touched before being sent back in time. The symbol branded on Stan Pines’ back – from the show she used to watch as a teen.  


She looks at him, _17-year-old and real_ , somewhere in the distance. Telling something, most likely a joke, because he grins widely, tugging at his brother’s shirt. Both of them laugh. Teenage twins. Stanley and Stanford. Boys, bathed in sunlight and happiness.  


Annie knows how and when it’s going to change, and it hurts, it hurts so much.  


She rushes back into the bakery and quickly flips the sign to 'Closed!'. Annie presses her back to the door and hides her face in her palms. Suddenly, she thinks - _what great prophets from the legends of the past must’ve felt, knowing so much about future?_ All she feels is _scared-scared-scared_ and nauseous and overwhelmed. She thinks of years on the streets, of great discoveries and even greater betrayal, of hellish three decades on both sides of the portal and of the end of the world. Of course, it was all right in the end. Even despite 40 years of heartbreak. But what if there’s a chance to make things better?  


_Be scared and do it anyway_ – she mutters to herself and starts to think of a plan.

The whole next week feels like the Universe is trying to make up for all the time she didn’t see the Pines boys in the town. Now she sees them almost every day. Annie goes to the beach for a walk – and they’re there, on a double swing set, chatting, loud and comfortable with each other. She looks into the grocery shopping list in her hand when she bumps into Ford – his face covered with an enormous box filled with instruments and some wires. Boy apologizes politely and carries on, but Annie’s still standing there, staring. She sees Stanley more – pacing along the streets, deep in thought and barely conscious of the world around him. Annie even drives around to find the pawn shop and calls a phone psychic just to hear a slightly annoyed voice of middle-aged woman.  


Annie’s still not sure what she’s going to do. She’s not even sure if she has the right to. Maybe the apocalypse and what lead to it was destined to happen? Maybe it has to be like that, and her interrupting may cause trouble? _But_ she tells herself _there’s still time._

She feels like a goddamn creep, thinking about how she’s going to stalk a 17-year-old, but she needs to find a way to get to know Stanley Pines.

The perfect opportunity comes when she carries boxes of fruits she ordered to the shop. The boy passes nearby, god knows why up and on the streets at ten on a Sunday morning. Annie eyes him – shoulders slumped, no need for a fake bravado anymore, no need to fake happiness when no-one’s looking. The decision comes quickly – all she needs is just to push a box with apricots down, fruits rolling to Stanley’s feet. Annie feels like she was told to give a speech on a topic she has not the slightest idea of. Like there’s a huge crowd instead of a boy and he’s going to watch every step of hers, looking closely for something suspicious. She straightens herself, clenching her right hand into tight fist.

\- Hey, boy! – Annie yells and waves, because he looks around as if hoping she addresses someone else. - Yeah, you, in a white t-shirt! Come here, I need help!

He comes closer, apparently reluctant but polite enough not to flip her off. He’s half a head taller than her. From up-close, she can see that his eyes are brown. Annie looks at him, probably a second too long, before smiling and gesturing to the apricots on the road.

\- Help me with this mess, will ya? I wish I had six pairs of hands but, unluckily, I don’t.

\- Um, sure, ma’am, - Stanley says and she notes that his voice is not as hoarse as she thought it had to be.

\- And the boxes, please!

He silently obeys, lifting twice a weight Annie did before he started helping. Silence that falls heavily between them almost crushes her _what to say what to say what to say_  
She still struggles with it when Stanley carries the last box into the bakery. The boy looks at her expectedly, and Annie tries to smile. 

\- Good job, kiddo, thanks a lot! Now choose a piece of cake for yourself as a reward. A-and, no objections! Do it, or I’ll change my mind. 

Stanley smiles at her for the first time and rushes to the showcase to have a better look. He’s quite a quick thinker. After a few seconds of thoughtful staring, he points to a banana and chocolate cake. Annie puts a piece on a plate. 

\- Thanks, ma’am! 

The boy smiles and rubs the back of his neck. Annie notices the gesture. 

_Oh_ she thinks _he just feels awkward around a stranger._

She doesn’t know what to say because she knows too much and he doesn’t know her at all. 

Maybe, the awkwardness goes both ways. 

\- Quit it with this ‘ma’am’ thing - it’s unsettling. 

The shop is small; there are only two tiny tables with two chairs each for the guests. Annie gestures towards one of them for Stanley to seat and places the cake he had chosen in front of him. 

\- Just call me Annie. And what’s your name? 

\- Stanley, - he’s already digging into the cake, while a sudden realization hits him. - Wait, ‘Annie’s’… This is yours? The bakery everyone keeps talking ‘bout? 

\- Meh, it’s not fully mine, but I’m working on it. And, the thing with this ‘talking’ – you know, the place ain’t new, but it got popular only a few months ago. After I bribed a journalist from our ‘Glass Shard Beach Herald’ with a free cherry pie. 

Stanley laughs. 

\- You’re weird. My Dad’s got a business too, but he never tells me about serious matters. 

\- Well, I don’t think you can’t handle it. You look like a high-schooler, am I right? 

\- Yeah! Yer place was a huge success at school. Someone, I think it was Angela, she’s this kinda popular girl, spread the word and everyone ran to see what’s up with this new place she chattered about. 

\- Oh, so you have been here before? 

The possibility strikes her. Maybe she saw them in town, both twins but not together, so she didn’t recognize them. 

\- I, - he stutters. – I don’t deserve much pocket money. So there’s, like, no use to spend them on eatin' somewhere else but home. 

Stanley looks down, shoulders slumped. He doesn’t notice Annie’s eyes suddenly widening. 

\- Kid, do you have a job? – she tries hard to sound careless. 

\- No. 

\- You’ve been a great help today. What would you say if I told you I have a job offer for you? 

Stanley suddenly clenches his fists, face flushed. 

\- I don’t need your pity! 

\- Whelp, maybe I need some, - she sits back in her chair. – I’ve got more customers. Work is piling up around here. As you’ve seen - I can’t even handle some fruits on my own. Could’ve really used an extra set of hands here. 

\- I- I’m sorry, - now Stanley blushes even more, looking away. - It’s just that, I… You’ve gotta know that almost all places in town refused to hire me again. 

\- Well, bad for them. You seem like a decent boy, so - no slacking off on the job and we’ll be good. 

-Okay, - he smiles weakly, hesitant, but there are happy sparkles in his eyes. – When can I start? 

\- Come tomorrow after school. We’ll discuss your salary and schedule. And get ready that for the first week of work - which is your training period - you’re gonna get only half of the salary. 

\- Okay, - Stanley says again, this time his smile bigger. 

\- So, see you tomorrow. 

Stanley storms to the door, then pauses for a second. Looks at her, sparkles in his eyes threaten to grow into bonfires. 

\- Can’t wait to tell Ford and Dad! I bet they’re gonna be shell-shocked I’ve got a job in such a fancy place! Ford’s my brother. _Twin_ brother, - he stresses the word with the proudest tone she heard him use. – See you tomorrow! 

He runs off, and Annie’s left alone with her thoughts. What is she going to do now? Tell him about the future? Subtly hint to be more careful around Ford’s project? A problem with her plans is that they’re only half thought over. For a second Annie wonders how her bakery is still afloat. 

But, in the end, there’s always a way. 

Stanley starts to work for her the next day. He says his father wasn’t impressed with him being employed at ‘Annie’s’, but, after all, as if he’s ever impressed. The boy mostly carries heavy stuff around the place,cleans it and learns to use the coffee machine. He’s nervous when Annie occasionally leaves him behind the counter; he says he can’t talk to people. Which, in Annie’s expert opinion, is total bullshit. The boy’s chatty and cheerful with her - the more comfortable around her he gets, the more he talks. Stanley tells her about his dreams to see the world, about his and Ford’s ship and how they’re going to sail away one day towards the better future. He’s hopeful; he looks towards adult life, which seems a constant adventure in the lands of unknown but fascinating wonder. 

Annie tries to be hopeful too. She assures Stanley he’ll do all he wants with his future if he works hard enough for it. She tells him he’s brilliant, praises all achievements, either for new ideas to organize the shop more efficiently or just helping around. Stanley constantly tries to deny her words, going red with embarrassment. 

A month after Annie leaves the store more frequently – Stanley feels more confident behind the counter. Or her words finally start getting to him. Whatever the reason, at least now he doesn’t look at her like a puppy being left alone near the supermarket for the first time, sure that the owner will never come back. 

Annie drives home and, halfway through checking the numbers in really boring but really necessary paperwork, grabs a cream puff from a plate, left at the kitchen’s table. That morning she didn’t pay much attention the last few trays of pastry, so the cream puffs came out of the oven half-baked and unfit for sale. After the first bite, she jumps to her feet and rushes to her car – the cream puffs are perfectly fine, so that means she confused the trays and took the half-baked one to the store. 

Annie rushes in, shaking. Which doesn’t make Stanley less smug than he, due to an unknown reason, is. 

\- Kid, did you get any complaints about cream puffs today? 

\- Did ya know your voice sounds real gruff when you’re nervous? – he laughs. – I don’t get it, how can you be so small and still so scary sometimes. 

Stanley doesn’t seem stressed at all, so she thinks it can’t be all that bad. Annie looks around – the shop’s empty. 

\- I’m eight fucking years older than you, kid, don’t call me small, - she doesn’t even try to pretend to be angry; she smiles, finally relaxing. – Will you be so kind to tell me finally what happened? 

Stanley grins. 

\- Yeah, actually, we did have some complaints. A lady came later this morning, brought her friends. Said the pastry’s no good. But I was real charming and persuasive, just as ya told me to be! And also I may have told ‘em it’s French delicacy. And they may have bought all we had on the display! 

Annie laughs delightfully, clapping him on the shoulder. 

\- Stanley, you’re a genius! 

\- My brother’s a genius, - he says, suddenly hostile. – I’m not. 

The change’s so sudden that Annie doesn’t even have time to take her hand off his shoulder. So she grips it tighter, trying to make the boy look at her. 

\- But you are, Stanley, as smart as your brother. Just in your way. You’re your own person after all. 

He flinches uncomfortably. But, at least, doesn’t try to deny. _Maybe_ , she thinks, _there’s still a chance_ . 

On Friday evening Annie understands that there was no chance. She finally gets it why Stan was so upset about her calling him a genius a day ago. Because a huge banner on the Glass Shard Beach High building says ‘Welcome to the GSB High Science Fair!’ and it’s today. _Was_ today, to be precise. 

Annie didn’t think it may be at the beginning of school year. She didn’t do all she could to ensure Stan he’s valid and good enough on his own. She was too hesitant and uncertain, overthinking too much. And this is what it leads to. 

She curses under her breath and turns her car in the direction of the Pines Pawns Shop. Sun is setting, and, as she remembers, Stanley was disowned by his father and thrown out of the house when it was dark outside. 

If the project ended up being broken, if all of the following events were still going to happen – she’ll be there. Maybe, _something_ actually can be all right.

Annie’s been sitting restlessly in her car for a few hours when Stanford appears. The boy storms into the house, hands angrily balled into fists. It takes not more than ten minutes for the door to open again, and she sees Filbrick pushing Stan so hard the boy falls. Mr. Pines shouts at him, voice full of disgust and anger, and throws a duffel bag at his son. Stanley’s shaken. Stanley throws back his head and desperately calls Stanford. Stanford closes the curtains. 

\- Stanford? Don't leave me hangin'. High six?

Stanley’s outstretched hand is trembling. Flibrick slams the door.

\- Fine. I can make it on my own! I don't need you! I don't need anyone! I'll make millions and you'll rue the day you turned your back on me!

Now Stanley angrily slams the door of his car and hastily drives away – in the opposite direction of the one the ‘one-way street’ sign indicates. _The kid never had any respect for the law,_ Annie thinks and immediately cuts herself off from thinking it. He has never been to prison. If she does everything right, he won’t ever have to be.

Keeping the distance, Annie follows the Stanleymobile. She thinks how she’s going to stop him from living the town and imagines something out of action movies with a lot of high-speed driving and blocking the road. But Stanley pulls over and gets out of his car. They’re near the first pile of rocks, which starts the shoreline. Annie leaves her car nearby, rushes after the boy and stops. There’s a silhouette of a boat in the distance, and Stanley sits near it. There’s no need to question what boat that is.

Annie walks back to her car and starts to doubt everything all over again. Does she have to go to him now or is it better to leave him alone for some time? Maybe, he needs time to think, to cool down? Weighing the pros and cons and biting on her fingernails, she doesn’t notice an hour passing. And Stanley’s still sitting there, on the cold and wet sand. All alone.

Annie curses herself and her cowardice. She takes a jacket that’s always lying in her car in case of emergency and marches towards the boy, determined.

\- Stanley.

Her voice startles him. The boy turns to Annie with a shocked expression, not expecting to see anyone at the beach this late. The woman forces a smile.

\- I was riding home and saw your car. What are you doing here? 

Stanley stays silent and goes back to staring at his hands. Annie sighs and sits near him. From up-close, she sees that his eyes are watery.

\- Stanley, it’s late and cold. Why aren’t you home?

Annie knows she’s hurting him, but he has to tell her. She can only help if Stanley tells her what happened.

\- Hey, baby-boy, what’s wrong? – Annie gently squeezes his shoulder.

Stanley’s lips start to tremble, but he pulls himself together.

\- We… we had a fight, - he finally says. - Me and Ford.

The boy pauses for a few minutes. Annie waits patiently. 

\- ‘Member I broke the coffee machine and you believed it was an accident? – he says all of a sudden, looking away. 

It was nothing important - she brushed the accident away a few weeks ago. 

\- Yeah? 

\- Stanford didn’t believe me, - he says in a flat voice.

Stanley suddenly looks so weary and so young that it takes her a minute to say the next words.

\- About the coffee machine?

Stanley shakes his head violently. 

\- I… I’ve done a real stupid thing, - he wraps his hands around his shoulders and, probably not even aware of it, starts to rock himself back and forth. - I messed up his machine. But I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! H-he… He didn’t believe me.

\- That’s why you don’t wanna go home?

The boy shakes his head again, even more violently than before.

\- I can’t. Dad… Dad said … I’m not welcome back ‘till I’ve made up for the lost millions. Dad… threw me out.

The last words come out in a hushed voice as if he just starts to understand it.

\- Okay, kiddo, this is no good. Get up. I’ll drive you to our place. You need to sleep - we can talk this out tomorrow morning.

Stanley shakes his head.

\- I can’t.

Annie, who almost rose to her feet, is forced to stop.

\- Hey, it’s not a problem. We have a spare bedroom.

\- I’m waiting for Ford, - he says suddenly. – You… you don’t have to be here. Maybe, he won’t come closer if there’s someone else, he’s shy.

Annie looks at the boy for a long moment. Then sighs and throws the jacket she brought along over his shoulders. 

\- Okay, but I’m not leaving for good. I’ll be in my car nearby. If your brother comes and I’ll know you’re safe, I’ll just ride away.

Annie sits in her car for a long time. It must feel even longer for Stanley. When there’s only an hour left ‘till the sunrise, Annie climbs out of her car and makes a beeline towards the boy.

\- Stanley, sweetie, it’s been a few hours, - it seems like he barely moved at all since she left. – That’s enough, you’ll catch a cold.

\- I.. I just wanna wait a bit more. Maybe, he couldn’t leave ‘cause Dad was there. M-maybe it’s just taking too much time to get here. But he’ll come. He… he can’t be that mad. 

The last words sound a lot like a question. Stanley stares into the sea again. Annie sits near him and this time, he doesn’t protest.

\- Sure, kid, - she says, knowing he’s not listening. – I’ve got the whole time in the word for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your thoughts about this work are really important to me, don't forget to leave a comment ;)  
> Feel free to tell me ~~grammar, Stanley~~ if I have mistakes because it's highly likely I do :)
> 
> Sorry this chapter was so long! I'll try my best to do better with the next one, which will be told from Stanley's point of view


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive~~
> 
> It took me longer than I expected, but here, finally, I present you the next chapter.  
> From Stanley's point of view now
> 
> warning for strong language!

 

 

  
_so, here you are_  
_too foreign for home_  
_too foreign for here._  
_never enough for both._  
— Ijeoma Umebinyuo, diaspora blues

 

When Stanley wakes up, he’s usually barely aware of the word around him. It’s something he got from his mother, who needs not less than five cups of coffee a day to keep herself awake. It’s not totally like that with Stanley, but he suspects someday it may be. A dozen of cups and plates had already met an inglorious and quick death at breakfast time, while he couldn’t hold them in his morning-clumsy hands. The only thing he had learned in the course of the past few years when he grew broader and taller ( _like a weed_ , Ma would smile victoriously, when Pops would only frown – it meant more clothes needed to be bought for the twins) was to _lean_. The bunk bed was designed for smaller kids, he still occasionally forgot how tall he had become – and hit his head. That always makes Ford laugh.

Stanley forgets today. He sits up, straightens, stops way too late. And doesn’t hit head on the rails of the top bunk bed. Frowning, he turns his head. There’s no top bunk, and his bed is just a regular bed, and then the realization hits him.

Stanley remembers everything from yesterday, everything that feels like a wicked dream. He fights the urge to cover his face with both hands and cry, falling apart at the seams. He can’t cry, because if he does – that would only prove Dads words right - that he’s weak, that he’s useless. Stanley bits his lower lip until he feels the metallic taste of blood. He’s still a bit shaking when he gets up, but at least he had managed to hold it all together, to ‘man up and deal with it,' as his father always said in reaction to them crying since he and Ford were little.

Thinking of Ford…hurts. Almost physically. He doesn’t feel angry anymore; he feels guilty and hurt and full of ‘what if’. What if he didn’t break the damn project? What if he did but told Ford after? What if Ford said something to Dad? ‘What if’ is going to tear him apart and he tries to concentrate on one thing – looking for Annie. He doesn’t remember much about how he got here, but he recalls enough to understand she’d given him a place to stay for the night. And it was her house, wasn’t it?  
Stanley never asked where exactly his boss lived. He hesitantly peers out of the window, but that doesn’t help much – it’s dark and the street is empty, and it looks like any other street in any small American town, so he doesn’t recognize it. Stanleymobile is standing near the house – Stanley swiftly remembers Annie had insisted on driving yesterday as he was reluctant to leave the car alone near the seashore.

But today no one’s gonna drive it but him. Today he has to hit the road. He’s on his own now, after all. He ‘doesn’t need anyone’, does he? Without yesterday’s hot-burning rage he doesn’t believe it anymore.

Stanley decides to head towards the kitchen; maybe Annie will be there. He goes out to the corridor – there’s no one, just a few closed doors. Even though he slept ‘till it was late evening, he feels exhausted. The boy creeps downstairs, looks around and spots big glass doors near the entrance. He catches a smell of cinnamon and coriander, spices Annie uses for sugar cookies. Behind glass doors, he finds a kitchen, but, unluckily, without Annie. Stanley takes a sit by the table, awkwardly thinking about what he should do. The Pines family never had many guests – their Dad wasn’t a huge fan of outsiders in the house. Ma would usually go out to meet a couple of friends she had, but when Shermie was born she stopped seeing even those few – all her time was occupied by the baby. And they never had friends who could come to the house to begin with.

While Stanley is musing nervously on guest behavior, he completely misses the moment when someone else enters the room. He jumps with surprise when a female voice asks him:

\- And who are _you?_

An elderly woman, maybe 50 or 60 years old, stands near the door, her hands crossed. She’s wearing white gloves and a black dress that looks expensive. Stanley remembers seeing something like this in old black and white movies on TV.

_Who is she? Maybe, Annie’s mother? Looks old enough to be._

The woman quickly gives him a once-over and appears clearly unimpressed. The look on her face reminds him of his father. Stanley feels a lump forming in his throat at the thought and understands seconds too late that he’s been silently staring at the woman for nearly a minute.

\- Stanley, - he blurts out. – I… I’ve been given a place here, to stay for the night.

The woman moves to one of the cupboards, gets a glass and then, out of some other cupboard that she unlocked with a small silver key – a bottle. She pours golden liquid into the glass and seems more concerned with her drink than with Stanley. After a moment it takes her to add a few cubes of ice to the glass Stanley is entirely convinced she’s lost interest in their conversation. But the woman suddenly speaks :

\- Oh, so you’re a new addition to our refugee camp?

\- What?

She leans on a table in the distance from Stanley, sipping her drink with elegance and grace.

\- We’re the refugees, dear, – the woman says. – People no one else wants anywhere. He takes us from streets like stray animals.

She looks like she’s ready to spit on the ground. Stanley feels like he’s at math exam where he understands _nothing at all_. Still, there’s something that confuses him the most, and that’s what he asks first.

-Who’s ‘ _he_ ’?

-I’m not calling him this stupid name he made up for himself, - she scoffs.

\- No, I mean… Annie was the one who brought me here and…

\- WHAT? - the woman yells all of a sudden, nearly spilling her drink. – That pretentious bitch lives here for less than a year, and now she thinks she’s allowed to do everything she pleases?

Stanley looks at her, completely dumbstruck. All else she says flies over his head. It’s not only that he never thought older people, _ladies_ , would swear like this, but it’s also that he’d never describe Annie neither as ‘pretentious’ nor a ‘bitch’. Right when he thinks about anything to say, a voice he knows finally appears:

\- It's the middle of the night and you’re drinking?

To Stanley’s relief Annie joins them in the kitchen. She walks forward to stand in front of him, facing the elderly woman. Annie’s wearing denim overalls that combined with her stature and short height make her look almost childish – not an equal at all to the tall woman in an elegant dress.

\- You, - screams the woman, pointing a gloved finger at her. – Who gave you the right to decide who comes to this household? You think I don’t understand how you got your pathetic little business and a place here? You think being young and sucking local mafia’s boss’ cock makes you a queen?

\- I’m very sorry, - says Annie with a smirk that indicates she’s not sorry at all. – That that was a currency you used back in your days, but I’m not paying with it. The kid’s staying, it’s been agreed on. So shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of the kitchen, or no god will stop me from throwing you out with my own two hands.

Despite her clothes and height, Annie manages to radiate such rage and confidence that the other woman retreats. She grabs the bottle and a glass and marches out of the room, chin up.

\- Savage whore, - she spits, passing Annie.

\- Bitchy old hag, - Annie says in return.

The old woman aggressively slams the kitchen door behind her. Stanley wonders how the glass didn’t shatter.

\- Well, - says Annie. – That wasn’t the best first impression.

Stanley looks up at her. He’s not sure what to say. _Thank you for giving me a place to sleep which is not my car? For caring when my family didn't?_ He couldn’t say it because voicing it would make it, all of it, real.

Annie looks at him intently, as if trying to find something in his eyes. Before Stanley asks what’s that look about, her expression changes into something warmer. She smiles softly at him:

\- Gosh, kid, you slept the day away! What do you want for late midnight snack – cereal or some leftover muffins from yesterday?

Stanley wants to say he’s not hungry, but his stomach growls before he manages to form words. He feels his cheeks getting hot.

\- Muffins will do.

When Annie puts a plate full of muffins in front of him he thinks – when and where will be his next meal? This must be the last fresh and warm food he’s having before he hits the road. He feels his eyes pricking again and tries desperately to hide it. Stanley has to get away from his thoughts so he asks:

\- I thought this was your house?

Annie chuckles.

\- No, I can’t afford a place like this. I’m just renting, like all of us. This place is a safe haven for more than just me and Dahlia. Yep, the old crone you’ve seen. I’m sorry you had to listen to her outburst. It’s not only that she particularly doesn’t like me, - Annie signs. - Dahlia doesn’t like anyone at all. But with me it’s special – she somehow believes I’m trying to take her place as some ‘woman-in-chief of the house’ she imagined herself to be. When I’ve moved in, it was a year ago, the place was a mess. I’ve come up with timetables for cleaning and cooking and buying some goods together and also I’ve insisted on getting a new cooler and a microwave.

\- You’ve got a microwave here? But it’s, like, for real rich houses!

Annie eyes him for a second and then says slowly and seriously as if weighing her words:

\- Okay, to begin with, you probably should know that the guy who owns the house is a head of the local mafia.

Stanley thinks about all the nasty things Dahlia had said before. Didn’t she mention a mafia boss? That thought probably reflected on his face because Annie adds quickly:

\- And that was the only true thing from what Dahlia said. He’s a good guy, all people who live here have stories about him saving their lives in one way or another. And he, well, to put it mildly, is quite a unique person. He read a novel about Italian mafia a few years ago, you know, the one they made into a movie recently, ‘The Godfather’. So he made his people call him Don, and that’s what we all here call him. I’m not even sure anyone remembers his real name anymore.

\- Dahlia mentioned he had a stupid nickname, - Stanley says and tries to smile - but fails.

Annie looks at him for a long moment. Then says, her expression serious, but voice soft:

\- Listen, Stanley. What happened to you on Friday is wrong and no person who’s 17 years of age should go through it. You didn’t deserve it. You’ve made a mistake and probably deserved some punishment, like being grounded or something, but not being thrown out of your house and disowned by your family. I am so sorry you have to grow up fast and become an adult who has to take care of himself. But you don’t have to go through it alone. We have a spare room, and it’s yours if you’ll let me talk you out of riding into the unknown.

Annie seems to guess what he was thinking, again, as it happened so many times before. Another reason to believe he’s too simple, too stupid, so anyone can get what’s happening in his head.

\- I can’t stay, - he says, and he’s not sure himself if he’s lying. – I have to get going. I… Dad said he’s not taking me back until I’ve earned a million dollars and I have to start as soon as I can.

Stanley’s looking everywhere but at Annie, because the sound of her ‘you didn’t deserve it’ still buzzes in his head.

\- Stanley, human beings can’t be valued in money. Unless you’re an organ dealer on black market.

He tries to laugh but instead something sounding suspiciously like a choked sob escapes his lips.

\- Also, your father is a massive dick who didn’t deserve those amazing children he was given.

\- Don’t say it! He, he just wanted me to toughen up! And I can do it, I can get all that money for him! I have an idea! I’ll travel, and I’ll find a treasure, and that’s going to be a shitload of money - he says, dreading the moment she’s going to start mocking him. She doesn’t.

\- Okay, you’ll find the treasure. But what are you going to do before that? What are you going to eat? Where will you sleep? Yeah, you have your car, but I guarantee you - you’re gonna have problems with your back in mid-twenties, sleeping on that kind of surface isn’t healthy. And for traveling around the world – you’ll have to keep yourself in a very good shape, because who knows what kind of monsters or other adventurers you’ll run into. For sure you’re not gonna be the only one after that amount of money! And good muscles require good food – like meat and fish. You’re not gonna get it easily.

It makes him angry because no-one believes in him, because he’s sure he can do it, he has to do it. So he doesn’t even understand when it happens, but he raises his voice and almost yells.

\- Well, I’ll think of something!

\- No, you won’t, - Annie states calmly. - And it’s not that I don’t believe in you. It’s just that I know what it means – to live on the streets.

\- What?

\- I didn’t tell you, - she shifts uncomfortably. – But, when I happened to come to Glass Shard Beach, I’ve had no money and no roof over my head. I was homeless, I didn’t have anyone I could ask for help, and I was starving. I couldn’t find a job – you know, it’s not easy at all when you don’t have a home address to write down in your application form. When I became desperate enough, I tried stealing food. It was never much and I always, every day, felt hungry, going to sleep just so the next day will come faster, just to save the food I had. It worked for a few weeks or so until I was caught. Stole from the local mafia’s boss’ shop, as it turned out. I was captured by his goons and brought before his eyes. I didn’t even have enough energy to fight back. And Don, he can be pretty scary if he wants to. And so he was. I didn’t steal much, just a bunch of buns. Which were pretty shitty anyway – and I said it straight to his face, adding that I could’ve made better. To this day I have no idea why, but he asked me why I was stealing, to begin with. And listened. And then offered a chance to prove that I actually can make better pastry. I did, and faster that I could believe it I was living here, and I was backing for that shop. Soon they closed it to open my bakery. Well, technically Don still owns part of it. Sweetie, what I’m trying to say – it’s not that I think that you can’t survive that. I just don’t want you to try it at all.

\- I would’ve never thought that you were, - he trails off.

And thinks – that was a year ago? What if he had seen her on the streets, among other hobos. There weren’t a lot in their small town, but still, there were a few. Is he like them now? Will he be - sooner or later?

\- Well, I wasn’t there for too long, it was slightly more than a month, but it still changed me in more ways that I would want to. I’m telling this from the experience, sweetie. I don’t want you to go through it. Stay here, give yourself time to figure out what to do with your life. You’ll have a job at my place and a roof over your head. That may not seem like much, but that’s more than some people have.

As a last resort, Stanley tries to protest, even if he doesn’t want to anymore.

\- I.. I can’t afford it! You said everyone here’s _renting_ , it means you pay money, and I’m not even sure if I have any in my duffle bag.

\- The rule here is that you pay 30% of what you earn. The amount of your salary doesn't matter. It’s 30% for all. Don said it would be the same for you.

\- That’s … not like I imagined a mafia boss.

\- Listen, sweetie, people here are, - she pauses for a moment, carefully considering her words. - _special_. The story I told you about myself… Well, I’d say that everyone here had a different one, but all of us had been through some real shit in life. Mine was the easiest one, I guess. And Don… He understands us. Because being a criminal is not funny or cool, as you may see it on TV sometimes. It means losing a lot. It’s death and blood and nightmares after. All people who live here were somehow rejected by the society, considered not good enough to pass as normal. I think Don just feels like there’s no one else to stand up for us.

Stanley nods, trying to comprehend all of it. His head starts to hurt.

\- Kid, I can’t _make_ you stay. Your life is only yours now, just as the decision to make. So what do you say?

\- I’ll stay. For a while. I need some time to think, you’re right.

\- And you’ll go to school.

\- What? No way!

\- Stanley, time’s changin’ – if you could go around without high school diploma 10 years ago, now you absolutely can’t. You’ll need it someday, even if you think now that you won’t. And who knows what will happen, what will you decide to do or what opportunity you’ll accidently get? Give yourself more options to choose. And also, there’s not much of the studying left.

\- You don’t understand - I’ll fail! I’m stupid!

\- Stanley, sweetie, you’re not stupid.

He notices how many times during the conversation she’d called him both by his name and ‘sweetie’. It’s horribly unusual and special, and Stanley remembers that she calls him that only when it’s so bad he can’t hide his emotions from her. Gosh, he has to look pathetic.

\- You don’t understand, - he tries again because she doesn’t. He somehow managed to fool her into thinking that he’s not dumb, but he has to tell her the truth. – It’s been years since I’ve actually tried doing something in school. I’ve always copied off Stanford! I don’t even know what we’re doing in math classes, and English will be a disaster and…

Annie stops his words galloping away putting her hand on his.

\- Stanley. This household has seven people living in it, and I don’t believe we won’t find at least one person for each subject to help you. I’m not tellin’ you catching up will be easy, but you can do it.

\- Why would they help me? They don’t even know me, - he tries weakly.

\- Well, you’ll meet all of them, - Annie stands up and ruffles his hair. - It’s sometimes hard to believe in it, especially when the world around is cruel and scary, but good people still exist. I believe all of them are good people. Even Dahlia. Probably. Somewhere deep inside.

He chuckles, this time sincerely.

\- Okay, kid, that’s enough talking, let’s get to finally doing something. You’ve got the whole attic room to yourself, but it has to be cleaned up.

\- Attic? – he says, probably too much skepticism in his voice.

\- Hey, I’m not making you live in the cupboard under the stairs!

\- What?

\- Nevermind. Let’s go get you a mattress and bed clothing. And I’ll show you around the place.

Stanley has nothing else to do but to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact - in 1971 only about 1% of US population owned a microwave. I now have extensive knowledge on the subject.  
> Next time will be from Stanley's point of view again, and some important introductions will be made.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Share your thoughts in comments ;)


End file.
